


Kinktober Ficlets 2017: Non-Con

by PoppyAlexander



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cocaine, Drug Use, Drugs, Gun Violence, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Non-Consensual, Rape, Sherlock way out of his mind on drugs, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyAlexander/pseuds/PoppyAlexander
Summary: "it's too late because (fists) (the gun) bloody bloody bloody hell"





	Kinktober Ficlets 2017: Non-Con

Inspired by this artwork by sh2jw: sh2jw.tumblr.com/post/61155974480 .

 

*

The last snort off the back of his hand and his nostrils are numb and running but he is miles tall, can touch both walls if he stretches his arms, his legs are strong and he could walk seven leagues, run along the river all the way to Canary Wharf at least, he could fight and win, no one can best him he has medals he boxed. boxes. his fists. fists.  _jab-jab. jab-jab_. a picture falls and there’s a tear in the wallpaper--she’ll hate that, he can fix it--and his one knuckle is bleeding. bloody. bloody. bloody hell and fuck it anyway

John is coming

Knuckles against his temples, digging, digging, his brain is swollen and he is hot all over where is the gun the gun thegun  _thegun thegunthegun **thegun**_  Now there are drawers out--she’ll hate that, he can fix it--but it’s a beauty and he spins the barrel, six-shooter, wild west London! Take aim, squint, target there--there--there. The door and feet on the steps and the gun on the worktop, no in the drawer, no the drawer’s out, in his pocket, no in the back of his trousers, no no no no just take aim

John is arguing. Big sad eyes so sad, so sad. sad old sob story: duty, closure, I thought you were dead, and next will be accusations and scolds about the drugs but nevermind now they’re all gone, all gone, all done, that’s over and now we’re onto this John, onto this, get onto this, get onto this, onto this bed,  _get on the bed get on the fucking bed_. Steady aim. Steady. you don’t want to do this. don’t do this. we’re going to fucking do this. fists. cuffs. bandage his mouth because he will shout i’ll show you shouting you think I don’t want to shout i want to howl you made me do this you made me into this and now it’s too late because  _(fists)_  (the gun) bloody bloody bloody hell

Clothes are nothing, shredded, and the cuffs cut in and there’s blood on John’s wrist, and some on his face, but there should be more he should be bleeding everywhere because it hurts doesn’t it. it hurts doesn’t it. it hurts, it hurts, it hurts when someone you loved fucks you. fucks you.  _(fists)_  fucks you and fucks you (teeth, more blood, there should be more, there’s more, it should be  _more_ ) it hurts doesn’t it, doesn’t it, when someone loves you and then  _fucks_  you

Eyes full of tears but don’t take this for weakness this is fury. fucking fury. fucking.  _fucking_.  ** _fucking_**

hurts, doesn’t it

you shouldn’t have married


End file.
